So just where does one sensibly begin to review a film of sheer nonsense? The story of two warped cops who are hell bent, at any cost, on rivaling for all the glory of fame. Ray Tango, a flagrant and inflated man, who ironically seems to have not a thing in his life to be inflated about, of whom although, is somehow financially well off, is madly bored from the dullness of his worthless life, and therefore, thankfully for the world, risks it everyday to pursue the criminal, because, to have made a real difference in it, could of course only begin and end with the permanent arrestation of himself. Gabriel Cash, a reckless cop, flowing with vanity, who becomes more criminal in his pursuance, than the criminals he actually pursues, just so to see his pitiful face on the back-page of a decaying newspaper. No sooner in the film, just when heaven seems to have done the city a great service, by having him shot to pieces in his own cave, disappointingly departs from it unscathed. Our third villain, Jack Palance, a Big Boss millionaire of organized crime, who seems with all his money, and all his connectivity in underground networking, to be just outright impotent in triumphing over two men of even greater impotence. Tango and Cash, framed as they become, for the sake of the city, in a staged sting operation, with forms of testimony, and manufactured articles, that could only be evidently admitted, in the most nut-bound asylum of courthouse quacks, signs and seals their guilt. If it has not become mad enough this far into the film, they no sooner thereafter happen to find themselves back home, in their chaotic stay of prison, combating with about three dozen unsupervised prisoners, within a dungeoness boiler room, unleashing drop kicks, groin punches, and what ever other barbaric tendencies form, from the privation of their frail and shriveled heads, until they at-length just get a bit overwhelmed and ungratified. Hung and ready for the torture of death appears out of a shadowy corner, Big Boss millionaire yven, descending both these glory-seeking deplorables, at his pleasure, into a tub of water with thousands of volts coursing through their bodies, and with no one to of course help them, is somehow happening in the place of a maximum security prison, without guards, and without rules, and with numbers of clamorous prisoners as free as birds, is of a scene that could only seem conceivable to, an audience of the most delusionaly demented. Finally come storming in, in this unbelievably absurd episode, are guards from all corners, and in all directions, just in time of course to save our two heroes, with Big boss , and everyone else scattering and slipping into the cracks of the walls, like scurrying rats, to remain unapprehendable, is again a segment that can only be at all realistically imaginable to an overdosing drug addict on every substance a white-coat could prescribe. During the view of this film, or should we call, fantastic dream, just when you think it has reached the height of it's absurdity, another scene convinces you otherwise, until you are at length astounded on just how excessive an unhinged imagination can leap.
Review of Tango & Cash
